


A Tall Guy, A Short Guy, and An Angel Walk Into A Diner...

by dogstar_corona



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Gay Bashing, Gen, alternate biblical viewpoints, conversations not to have in a conservative town's diner...ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogstar_corona/pseuds/dogstar_corona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Team Free Will' decides to stop for dinner in a small conservative town.  It is not the best place to discuss Castiel's views on religion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tall Guy, A Short Guy, and An Angel Walk Into A Diner...

During a sunny spring afternoon, three men walk into a roadside dive somewhere near a small town in Missouri. The first one to enter the door was what would be described as 'tall drink of water'. He had mousy brown hair that looked like it needed a haircut, and a hunch to him as though he were subconsciously apologetic about being the tallest in the room. The shorter one who followed wore a leather coat a size too large and looked similar to the larger man. The corners of his eyes had 'crows feet' that told a different story to the haunted way he looked about the room; one that said he smiled a lot more than he did now. The third and last to enter was the strangest one. Dressed in a tan trench coat he was the most well groomed of the three men, but that wasn't what put him out of place of his company. The way he held himself was foreign; like he was still getting used to wearing his own skin. Piercing blue eyes scanned the room easily, missing nothing and simultaneously disinterested in everything that surrounded him. The trench-coat man was corralled by the other two to a booth, as the sign politely asked them to 'find yourself a place!' Tall Guy and Short Guy casually looked over their menus in a way that said they were in these kinds of places more times than they would like, and that this was just part of the ritual of their meals. Trenchcoat Man didn't even glance at the laminated card.

Their waitress noted the handsomeness of each man and gave an appraising thought with who best to flirt with. Putting a blonde strand back into place she sauntered over, her nurse's shoes clicking on the checkered floor and made her decision. Shorty looked like he could be more fun than the taller one, and the guy in the coat looked a little too weird to her. Maybe he was European and they always asked for the strangest things in bed, or so she heard. She liked her men American, thank you very much.

“So what'll it be, boys?” she smiled, mostly to Shorty who gave her a grin that told her he knew the game she was playing. “Well...Darlene,” he glanced at her breast where she had pinned her name tag, “I'll take a cheeseburger with a side of 'rings, and a cherry coke if you got one. My friend over there...hey Cas,” The man with the trench coat looked up at Shorty. “Whatcha havin', dude?”

“You know I don't require sustenance, Dean.”

“Oh come on, man. People eat. Whether you need to or not, you should at least keep up the pretense of being human.”

“As you are so often fond of pointing out, Dean, I'm not human.”

“All right Spock, damn,” Dean turned back to Darlene, who was starting to feel a little uneasy about the pair before her. Something...just didn't seem quite right about them two. Dean continued, a frustrated smile plastered on his face. “My friend will have a glass of water, and, I dunno, a plate of fries or something,” he said the last part with a sidelong glare at 'Cas'. Darlene quickly jotted this all down and looked over at the last of the trio who had been staring out the window. “And what about you, sugar? You see something you like?” Dean tried to hide his laughter in a cough while Cas frowned at his friend, looking very confused about the reaction. When the tall guy turned to look at her, she saw he had fresh stitches on his cheek that told the story of a knife blade being there recently. She had seen enough on her papa's face to know that this only meant trouble to a girl who stuck around. Still, he gave a friendly, civilian smile that looked at  
home on his face and hinted at an easy demeanor that ran contrary to the damage on his cheek. “I'll take a salad and a diet sprite, thanks.”

“Sam, that's rabbit food. Eat a steak or something.” Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head at Darlene. “Ignore him. He's cranky when he doesn't get his 8 hours. I'm staying with the salad.” Darlene nodded and jotted down the order with a customary “Be right back with your water” to excuse herself from the table, and overheard Sam say to Dean, “You're the one overcompensating, jack-ass. Me liking salad or Cas not being hungry doesn't mean you have to butch out for the waitress.”

Mama always said to Darlene to trust her God-given 'woman's intuition', and there it was. Those men were as queer as tits on a bull. Filling their water, she brought the glasses to them quickly and if she set them down a bit too hard, then that was fine. She didn't really want a tip from the likes of those three 'men'.

\-----//-----

The sudden Jekyll and Hyde transformation of their waitress only pointed to one thing, and that was Dean's brother's big mouth. “Thanks, Sammy, I bet she thinks were one big, gay, happy family now. Do you think we'll get a chance to eat before they run us out of here with pitchforks?”

After Sam's predictable claim that Dean was overreacting again, Castiel took a calm sip of water, winced at the chemical traces and hint of dirt that his enhanced senses picked up, and pushed the glass away carefully. “That is the one thing I've never fully understood about humanity; their interest in who is fornicating with whom. It was never something my Father was concerned with, only the apostles of his Son. Also, I suggest you don't drink the water. There is something wrong with it.”

Dean and Sam looked up, mouth's open like codfish. Whether it was the shock of what Castiel had said, or that he used the word 'fornication' as though he were talking about house paint no one could tell. The silence at the table mirrored that of the muting of the conversation in the diner; clearly, the brothers were not the only ones who heard this opinion. Sam was the first to string a coherent sentence together. “Ah, Cas, considering we're in a public place and all, while I agree that it's no one's business what people do in their spare time, others won't feel the same.”

“Sam, it doesn't matter if they agree or not,” continued Castiel, “my Father doesn't consider it important to focus on, and by extension, humanity shouldn't either. The apostles who wrote about gender inequalities were not doing so on behalf of Christ, but from their own misogynistic beliefs of the female gender. As for the preoccupation modern denominations have with whether a person has relations with someone of the same or opposite gender, the verses pertaining to these 'sins' in the book of Romans has to do with being against visiting the temple prostitutes. It is also about guarding against a person's focus on the physical and not the spiritual. Those who make rules outside of what Christ ordained to the Apostles will be ruled by them. The Gospel of the Magdalene clearly says this. If the scrolls of Mary hadn't been considered heresy, then all the denominations and the fanatics wouldn't exist. The way would be clear, as people would only follow what Christ laid down as law, and not create their own to make sense of the added commandments of the Apostles who wouldn't carry His message. Humanity would see the path to Salvation that our Heavenly Father has set for his Children on earth. As it stands, those who follow the teachings of the Buddha are closer to His favor than any that claim to follow the Christ.”

Now the room was dead silent. The air prickled with tension as though a storm were about to break with apocalyptic retribution on the strangers. Already the low rumbling of the regular diners was meeting Dean's ears, and his eyes scanned the room with practiced ease for signs of trouble. But the angel of the Lord was not to be denied. His own religious fervor has been stirred, and his shoulders straightened as his blue gaze penetrated those of his companions. “You have seen acts both demonic and miraculous, have you not? Do you ever wonder why the Earth is seeing so many signs of Mary? It is not the mother of Christ that appears in their morning toast, but of the Magdalene.”

Before Castiel could continue, a ham-sized fist hit the table, causing the glass to pop upward and spill their contents on the scratched wood surface. “I don't know where you all hail from, but we're not likin' what you're talkin' about. Now this here's my place, and it's a Christian place, and I don't take kindly to blaspheming queers eating in my 'stablishment. Now get out before I throw you all out.” Satisfied, the brick wall that was the cook crossed his arms and dared the three to disobey while he was applauded by the other diners for making his stance. Dean and Sam sighed and stood as Castiel followed their lead, shuffling his body off the bench and out from behind the table. Calmly, the angel stood, straightened his tie, and raised his hand to the cook's face with clear intent. To the beefy man's surprise, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand as carefully as if it were a loaded gun and pulled it away as fast as he could. The quick move of the man in the leather coat, and the nervous smile on his face made the cook feel a little less in control of the situation; the fear in those green eyes was no lie. “It's okay, Cas. He's no threat. But we're going to have a talk in the car about acceptable conversations in public.”

“Do not treat me as though I am a child, Dean.”

“Alright you two, let's go.” Sam grabbed the scruff of both necks and steered them towards the door. If they were going to start arguing again they were going to do it on the road, preferably towards a restaurant with a 'drive-through' window. The bell tinkled merrily away as the trio departed, the happy sound at complete odds with the atmosphere in the room. Slowly, the heavy atmosphere lifted in the diner as the patrons forgot the uncomfortable speech the strange man in the trenchcoat had given.

And if anyone decided that maybe there was something to what he had said, well, the minister would clear that question up on Sunday.

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this I was reading 'The Gospel of Mary of Magadala' by Karen L. King, and it was a very eye-opening book. There was a lot to it that many would consider unorthodox and, yes, blasphemous, but considering the author (a professor of Ecclesiastical History at Harvard U in the Divinity School) it's worth a read. 
> 
> Crossposted from livejournal


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